


Castiel Gets his (Plastic) Wings

by Emi_theSassiestSousa



Series: Codas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x15 Coda, Castiel on an airplane, Destiel if you squint - Freeform, M/M, Oh look Sam is here too, airplanes are the best, airplanes are the worst, angel!cas - Freeform, bathroom lines are interesting sociological studies, canon adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 13:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13927746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emi_theSassiestSousa/pseuds/Emi_theSassiestSousa
Summary: 13x15 Coda - Castiel is headed to Syria, but he must take a plane first.Castiel sat in a hard plastic chair. The paltry excuse for cushioning offered no comfort as he waited to board his flight.His flight.At least he’ll be in the sky again. It had been so long.His thoughts must have shown on his face because the woman next to him asked, “Nervous flyer?”He didn’t turn to face her, “No, it’s just been a while.”The woman wasn’t convinced, “It’s okay to be nervous, you know. It’s completely understandable. Tons of metal hurling through the air, controlled by two people, some radios, and prayers.” She shook her head, “I can’t believe we do this.”A smile played at the edge of Castiel’s lips.It’s okay to be freaked out,Dean had said.Tons of metal hurling through the air, can’t even steer it yourself, it’s not right. Ain’t natural.Dean, you’re the one afraid of flying, not Cas,Sam had cut in.





	Castiel Gets his (Plastic) Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to @jupiterjames and @dinosaurrainbowstarfish on Tumblr.

Castiel sat in a hard plastic chair. The paltry excuse for cushioning offered no comfort as he waited to board his flight.

His flight.

At least he’ll be in the sky again. It had been so long.

His thoughts must have shown on his face because the woman next to him asked, “Nervous flyer?”

He didn’t turn to face her, “No, it’s just been a while.”

The woman wasn’t convinced, “It’s okay to be nervous, you know. It’s completely understandable. Tons of metal hurling through the air, controlled by two people, some radios, and prayers.” She shook her head, “I can’t believe we do this.”

A smile played at the edge of Castiel’s lips.

 _It’s okay to be freaked out,_ Dean had said. _Tons of metal hurling through the air, can’t even steer it yourself, it’s not right. Ain’t natural._

 _Dean, you’re the one afraid of flying, not Cas,_ Sam had cut in.

“Perhaps I’m not the only one who’s nervous?” Castiel asked as he turned to the woman. She was middle-aged, and had the look of a kind soul.

She laughed, “Ah, you’ve got me!” She held out her hand, “I’m Cathy. Cathy Cathel. I know what you’re thinking, no my parents weren’t crazy, that’s my married name.”

Castiel shook her hand and didn’t even blink at the information dump, “I promise I wasn’t thinking that.”

“Sure you weren’t,” she smiled knowingly, or so she thought. “So where are you headed?”

“Turkey.”

“Right, you’re here at the same gate as I am, of course you’re going to the same place! I’m headed to Pursaklar-- that’s outside of Ankara-- going to visit my daughter and my son-in-law. My first grandchild is due soon!”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Oh it is, I’m so excited, I could burst!” she threw her hands up dramatically. “What are you going to Ankara for?”

 _Remember your cover story, Cas,_ Dean had said. _You’re going to volunteer with the Red Crescent._

 _We’ve already added you into their database,_ Sam added.

 _Don’t go into too much detail, only leads to questions,_ Dean instructed. _Honest but vague, works almost every time._

 _Dean, I can remember a simple cover story,_ Cas said, a bit exasperated. But only a bit. _I’m going to be alright._

 _I know,_ Dean turned away. _Of course. Right._

“I’m a volunteer. To help refugees.”

Cathy’s eyes widened, “Oh! Wow!”

Castiel was saved from further questioning by a voice over the loudspeaker, “Now boarding economy class, Flight 315 Washington DC to Ankara.”

 _Can’t we at least spring for business class?_ Dean had suggested. _It’s a long-ass flight._

 _We want as little attention as possible, Dean. Besides, Mr. Sanchez’s credit card won’t handle that kind of charge,_ said Sam.

 _Those seats are so cramped, though,_ Dean protested.

 _I’ll be fine, Dean,_ Cas said. _I won’t be uncomfortable in a small seat, I’m an angel,_ he reminded him.

Dean wouldn’t meet his eyes again, _Right._

Cathy and Castiel joined the line to board their flight. Castiel’s ticket was checked without incident and he headed down the walkway to the large plane waiting for him. He stopped to look out the window at the plane. The other passengers moved past him, eager to reach their seats.

Dean and Cathy were right, after all, it was incredible that so many tons of metal could soar through the air. Slower than an angel, sure, but Castiel had never thought he’d see _this_ from humanity-- and so quickly. Was it only a hundred years ago that two brothers had glided over that North Carolina beach? The culmination of how many decades of human tinkering? To Castiel, that was a blink of an eye.

“Excuse me, sir?” a flight attendant kindly nudged him from his musing, “We need to get going.”

Castiel nodded as naturally as he could, “Right, my apologies,” and proceeded onto the plane to find his seat.

The only request he had made when Sam and Dean had put together this plan to get him to Syria was to sit near the window. He mentally prepared his apologies to the two people he was sure to disturb. He didn’t get the chance, though.

“Oh, look at that!” Cathy beamed from the middle seat, “What a coinkydink!”

She and the person next to her stood to allow Castiel to his seat. He murmured his thanks. The other person in their row pulled out a book and was immediately lost in it.

The plane taxied out to their runway and Castiel couldn’t help but get excited. For millennia, the only things in the sky were birds and bats, angels and monsters, but now...

He couldn’t possibly stop the grin that spread across his face. He had been _there_ when a creature that humans now called Tiktaalik had crawled from the sea. He had watched as they were slowly molded in God’s image over the eons. He had witnessed the Botai people wrangle wild horses in the Eurasian Steppes. He had been speechless when all at once people across Europe were creating horseless carriages. And now here he was, about to launch from the ground in a metal tube with stiff appendages that hardly resembled true wings.

A flight attendant began the pre-flight safety instruction. Castiel gave rapt attention.

 _Hey,_ Dean had said.

Cas looked at Dean as he shuffled his feet, waiting for him to continue.

_I gotta-- Could I-- ...Will you promise me something?_

They stood at the entrance to the security line. Dean had driven Cas to the airport in Washington DC and walked him through the process of checking in, making sure his small bag was checked just fine and easily sweet-talking the clerk at the front counter to smooth over whatever had caught their attention about Cas’s ticket.

 _Of course,_ Cas had answered.

 _Heh,_ Dean rubbed the back of his neck, _you don’t even know what I’m askin’ yet._

Cas waited for Dean to continue.

Dean sighed, _Just… stay safe, okay? Be careful?_ He raised his gaze from the floor to meet Cas’s eyes.

Cas squinted, _Of course I’ll be careful, Dean, this is an important mis--_

 _Just--_ Dean interrupted, _Just... come back to us in one piece, okay?_

Oh.

 _Yes,_ he said earnestly, _I promise, Dean._

Having memorized what the flight attendant instructed in case of a crash, Castiel turned his attention the window. The engines picked up alongside Castiel’s anticipation. The plane sped forward, there was a peculiar sensation in his stomach as he was pushed back into his seat, and then, with no other fanfare, his view from the window began to rise.

There was the tiniest twinge of disappointment, but it was overwhelmed with delight. It wasn’t the same, of course it couldn’t be the same, but he was here again, above the ground, looking down upon humanity in its sprawling wonder.

“I’m starting to think you’re not nervous about flying at all.”

Castiel couldn’t turn from the window to address Cathy directly. “I’m not. It’s just been so long…” The city fell away from them, quickly dissolving into patches of gray and brown and green.  It had been so long and yet no time at all. What was five years to Castiel?

“I’m still not convinced this is a good way to travel,” Cathy barreled on. “Tossing people over oceans, what I wouldn’t give for a nice cruise.”

At that, Castiel’s curiosity was caught and he faced Cathy, “Why didn’t you take a ship, then?” After all, even when faced with extreme road trips, Dean always took the route on the ground over the convenience of flying.

“The cost alone! It’s far less expensive to fly to Turkey, I couldn’t take a ship and then how many buses and trains and border checks across Europe!” Cathy looked thoughtful for a moment, “I’m not even sure if there are any cruises that go all the way across the ocean.”

Ah, so she hadn’t checked. Her fear was obviously not as deep-seated as Dean’s. Castiel knew full well that Dean would have exhausted every option before accepting air-travel.

Castiel returned to his window. The plane was reaching the height of the clouds now. He longed to feel that mist flow over his wings.

“At least the clouds are pretty, right?” asked Cathy.

The flight continued in this manner-- Castiel trying to absorb as much as he could through the window and Cathy trying to maintain a conversation-- until a flight attendant reached their aisle with a cart.

“Would you like anything?” he asked Castiel’s row.

His aisle-mates ordered a glass of wine each. “Do you have Margiekugel’s?” he asked.

“I sure do!” the flight attendant replied with a smile. “Could I see your ID?”

 _If you need to take the edge off,_ Dean had said while he handed Cas a fake driver’s license, _they’ll probably ask you for this._

Castiel’s mouth betrayed a smile again as he dug in his pocket for the card.

But now with a drink put away, Cathy was even more emboldened.

“So, you’re going to volunteer, are you?” she asked, innocently.

“Yes,” Castiel answered simply.

Cathy pursued beyond the pause, “Do you mean in Syria? With the war?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve heard... awful things from Alim, my son-in-law.”

Castiel was terribly aware of the situation, but this woman seemed to want to share her perspective. Perhaps it would help her.

They spoke of what Cathy had heard. Castiel comforted where he could, but there wasn’t much sugar-coating for the horrors of war. He kept his cards close to the chest, only telling Cathy that he was going to help the Red Crescent when the conversation had demanded it. He succeeded in keeping the conversation focused on her, though, and honestly enjoyed helping her process this overwhelming thing that affected her loved ones personally.

Two beers and four glasses of wine later, however, and Castiel was having second thoughts.

The conversation had moved to more trivial matters and Castiel had lost interest. Sam and Dean had taught him enough to know that abruptly ending a long conversation left humans feeling disjointed, even if the topic at hand had been thoroughly exhausted, so he began to search for a polite way out.

He found it in a man in the aisle in front of them who stood and made a request of his aislemates.

“I’m sorry, Cathy, could I please get up? I need to use the restroom,” Castiel parroted from him.

“Oh goodness, yes,” Cathy blustered and she and the other person in the row stood to let Castiel pass.

At 'cruising altitude,' as the captain had put it over the speaker, the plane was primarily steady with only mild turbulence. Castiel made his way back to the line to the restroom. As he waited, he found his mind beginning to wander,  as it was wont to do when faced with this many unfamiliar humans. The plane had a distinct smell. Was it the “canned air” that Dean seemed to dread, or was this simply the communal smell of humans? Castiel had never been in such a tightly enclosed space with so many people before.

The line for the bathroom progressed slowly. Castiel recognized right away that one of the stalls was stuck marked “Occupied” even though it was not. No one had entered it for at least fifteen minutes even though someone had definitely left it earlier. The door was even open a crack, the lock evidently stuck, but none of the other passengers seemed to want to intrude on the phantom occupant. They wouldn’t even knock to check. They also refused to look each other in the eyes, even though they were all experiencing the same struggle of waiting too long for the restroom. Castiel filed “the need to urinate” into the category of things humans all experienced but chose not to discuss or acknowledge.

When it was his turn, however, he knocked on the door to the empty “Occupied” restroom. He received no response, as he knew he wouldn’t, and entered.

Once inside, he just stood there, looking into the tiny mirror, and basked in the silence.

Then a memory approached him, unbidden.

 _I could go with you,_ Dean had said.

 _Doesn’t Sam need your help here?_ Cas asked.

_Sam’s a grown-up, he can take care of himself._

_And I can’t?_

Dean dropped his gaze to the floor, _Shit, that’s not what I meant, Cas._

_I can do this, Dean. I’ll be fine._

_Right, yeah._

Castiel stared at himself, unblinking, in the mirror of the restroom.

 _I could go with you,_ Dean had said.

 _I could go with you,_ Cas had offered years ago.

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t keep this restroom to himself for too long.

When he returned to his seat, Cathy was ready with more questions.

“Do you think it’ll be hot this time of year? I only know the weather back in Virginia, I have no idea how things are in Turkey--”

Before Castiel could think of how to explain the climate of Asia Minor to Cathy, a flight attendant with a drink and snack cart happened to pass.

“Just a soda, please,” Castiel asked this time.

After confirming which one he wanted, the flight attendant pulled out a cup filled with ice that was obviously too small for the whole soda. She poured only some of it in. Castiel took his cup and looked back, hoping the flight attendant was going to hand over the rest of the can. But she moved on to the other passengers, and Castiel frowned. He did his best not to pout, it was only a few ounces of soda after all, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the flight attendant would have withheld that bubbly sugar water so stringently if she had known that Castiel has aided in averting The Apocalypse. Twice. Thrice if The Darkness counted as an apocalypse.

The cart moved on and Cathy turned to Cas yet again.

“I wonder if we’ll have time to see the Hagia Sophia before the baby comes--”

 _I could go with you_ , Dean echoed in Castiel’s mind. _Come back to us in one piece, okay?_

“Cathy,” Castiel headed her off, schooling the annoyance from his voice.

“Yes?”

“Have you had enough wine tonight?” Castiel noted that the other person in their row was still utterly absorbed in their book.

“Enough? _Ha,_ for a flight this long? I don’t think I could ever--”

Castiel pressed two fingers to her forehead and she was out.

He breathed a sigh of relief. He would happily wake her when they reached Ankara.

Castiel turned back to his window and allowed his mind to wander through happier memories.


End file.
